


Mouth

by ritsuko



Series: Die Hündin von HYDRA [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blood, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Face Slapping, Gangbang, HYDRA Trash Party, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Mutilation, Orders, Ownership, Rough Sex, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:59:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3245444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritsuko/pseuds/ritsuko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pierce wants something all to himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mouth

"No one uses your mouth but me."

The Winter Soldier gazes up at Pierce with a mouthful of cock, eyes vacant and submissive. There's a part of him that hates that the soldier is so damn compliant. Every once and a while, it might be nice to have the other man complain or second guess his orders just so he can administer a punishment. He never does, just watches him with doe eyed complacency.

It's not so bad. Every order he gives the man he knows will be followed to a T, so it's easy to trust that his mouth, if not before this, from now on would only be Pierce's. 

He clenches the other man's hair in one hand, holding him in place as he shoots his load. The asset gulps down every drop of seed, the constrictions of his throat milking out all of his come.

Yes. Only he should feel this. Absently, he runs his thumb over the brunette's jaw, feeling each swallow vibrating through his skin. 

So obedient.

He comes up with an excellent idea with what should happen to any who do use him in this way without permission.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The mission was an easy one. The whole STRIKE team is high fives and jeers, save for the asset, already docile and seated in the corner of the transport. It doesn't take long before one of them notices.

It's nothing out of order, they've all used the asset for a little R&R time. 

Rumlow tells him to kneel, forces him on his hands and knees, before ripping down his pants. He's always the first, a the leader of the team. 

He never goes easy, just one well aimed glob of spit and he's pushing in. It's always so tight, so fucking hot and good, no matter how many times the soldier's been fucked. But he loves it like this, first dibs, sinking in to the hilt.

By the time someone else whips out their cock to go for the front, he's already pounding out a steady rhythm. He closes his eyes in extacy, and just focuses on the feeling.

"Open your fucking mouth, bitch!" 

Brock's eyes flit open to see Kochanski's fat cock dripping in front of the asset's face, but the other man's lips are sealed tight. Odd. He's never stopped them before. 

Kochanski swears under his breath, and slaps the soldier across the face with the mushroom head of his prick, leaving a slight smear on the asset's cheek. Those usually vacant grey blue eyes look up and Rumlow sees the cold calculation in them that the soldier has during every mission.

"Those are not my orders."

Everyone in the transport balks. Rumlow slows his tempo, and can feel the other man's walls twitching around his shaft. Very rarely does the asset even speak. Kochanski doesn't seem to care; he's a man on a mission of his own, to get his dick sucked.

"I don't give a flying fuck what you think your orders are! You're gonna put my cock in your mouth, and you're gonna make me scream with how good you suck!"

The asset opens his mouth takes the cock in. Trying to get over it, he goes back to concentrating on his own pleasure, focusing on the slick heat he is pounding into. He can feel his orgasm building, balls starting to clench- 

Kochanski starts to scream, starts struggling, then suddenly, everyone is moving away. He pulls off of the soldier and jumps away, cock still jutting hard from the fly of his pants.

It's hard to take in what's happening. There's blood, on the asset's face, on the agent's groin. Kochanski is writhing around on the floor sobbing.

His blood goes cold as the asset's grey eyes rise from the floor and bore into his own. There's something there: carnal, angry.

Coherent.

With blood dripping down his chin, he spits out the ripped off lump of flesh that was a part of the agent's cock, _and fucking grins._

Rumlow has to scream orders for the six guns on the man not to fire. He looks at the other agents and each one is wide eyed and fucking terrified. By the third time he yells "Hold your fucking fire!" The others seem like they just might.

Maybe.

Rollins looks at him from the corner of his eye like he's fucking nuts. He just returns a slight head shake. He knows there will be hell to pay if the asset returns with an injury one of them inflicted, no matter what the cost.

Better to leave his punishment to Pierce.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He feels like he's waking up from a dream, all foggy and slowly regaining consciousness. The metallic tang of blood is still thick in his mouth. It should be repulsive, but it tastes good, better than the rations they give him or the semen they force him to swallow. 

The man whose penis he'd bitten off had blacked out, the rest train their guns on him for the remainder of the ride. His body is singing, thrumming with energy. He searches each of their faces carefully and sees fear on them. It makes him smile.

God, it has been so long since he has smiled. He can't even remember when the last time was. It feels foreign to curve the corners of his lips up.

He knows they will not fire, but still, it makes him feel powerful, for the first time in a long time. Knowing that they fear him. The ride back to headquarters is tense, broken only by when the man wakes up and whimpers his pain. Someone tries to help him bandage the mess, a med kit out and a syringe being stuck in the injured man's vein.

The blood dries on his face. He's always been considered a force to be reckoned with, but not to HYDRA. He has only ever served.

He still is, under Pierce's order. He told him what to do. But even so, he feels free. So much freer than he ever has. If he only ever has to have the older man's cock in his mouth ever again, it's worth it.

They arrive back at base, and he is marched immediately to a holding cell. There's no need to fight it, it's standard, always comes after a mission. He stands in the corner, at ease, watching as the leader, Rumlow, closes the barred door with the most uneasy look on his face. It makes him want to laugh, but it's been even longer that he's made such a noise than it has a smile.

Still, he watches the man until he finally turns away, muttering what a crazy mother fucker he is.

He waits. Thirty seven minutes go by before the door opens. Pierce steps in, wearing face neutral. "Do you know what you have done?"

The asset stares up at Pierce, eyes half lidded in satisfaction. "Just following orders, sir."

He sees Pierce's cock twitch through the thin linen of his trousers. Immediately, he falls to his knees. He knows what's coming. He wouldn't dare harm the man. 

He remembers what happens when you go against the Master. He remembers pain. Absolute skin flaying, bone breaking, gut wrenching PAIN.

Submissively, he casts his eyes to the ground, the dog at the heel of his master.

"You're a mess."

It's meant to be an insult, but it slides off of him. It's hard to be insulted when you are given no options. He trains his breathing and stares at the floor, awaiting the next order.

He feels that hand rest on the top of his head, almost stroking the lank locks. "Good job."

A small part of him feels pleased.

The rest feels nothing.


End file.
